Halo
by A1066
Summary: Like Cinderella but without the glass slippers, but sloppy drunk. The night at the Policemen's Ball opens a can of worms when Olivia admits her feelings about the apparently oblivious ADA to the rest of the squad. A/O
1. Chapter 1

She seemed to be surrounded in a halo of sparkling light, her blond hair shimmering – and Olivia realized that she must have drank too much. Alexandra Cabot was a beautiful woman, but an angel? She swished what was left of the red wine around in the bottom of her wine glass and leaned her hip back against the bar. No, it was quite possible she was an angel. Unaware of the Detective's intense scrutiny, the ADA was tipping her head back, laughing with her entire body at something her handsome companion was saying. It was a glorious sight. To keep from involuntarily moaning at the smooth column of Alex's throat and the way her blond hair fell across her shoulders as she was overcome with mirth, Olivia swallowed the last of her wine in one large gulp. She nearly choked on it as Alex dropped her chin again, setting her elegant hand on her companion's bicep, an intimate gesture. The corners of her delicious lips were still turned up into a half-smile.

"Let me take that," Fin had snuck up on her, she was so intent on watching Alex through the haze of alcohol and adoration. Deftly, he plucked the wine glass from her tightening grasp, helping to avoid it being shattered in her iron grip. He set the glass down on the bar and then put his arm around Olivia's shoulders, trying to turn her to face him. "Hey, Liv."

She glanced over at him before fixing her gaze back on Alex. The halo around her was growing, nearly blotting out the view of the man with whom she was speaking. Maybe she should have eaten something before coming out to the party, the last rational part of her brain argued, but it was far too late for that. She had so little time between wrapping up the paperwork on her latest rape/homicide case and the start of the Annual Policeman's Ball, that she'd only been able to run to her apartment and throw a new outfit on before she had to catch a taxi. And once she had arrived, she realized belatedly she hadn't eaten since the night before.

Elliot and Kathy were nowhere to be seen, so she had made a beeline directly for the bar. Hard liquor seemed a little tacky considering how much she had spent on the shoes and dress she was wearing, so she had opted for the classier wine, though she had consumed an amount now that was bordering on obscene. Really, she had meant to keep it to a minimum, but then Alexandra Cabot had glided into the room in a crimson dress with a daringly low back and her hair brushing her creamy, nearly bare shoulders on the arm of some WASPy Prince Charming in a tuxedo. But, the quantity of wine was beginning to pay off, she mused, the halo spreading out from Alex had completely obscured the man in the tuxedo, now she could pretend that Alex was simply standing there looking charming and waiting for Olivia to sweep her off her feet.

"No, you really can't. Girl, pull it together!" Fin shook his head, tugging on Olivia's shoulders a little harder. Her surprise at the fact she had spoken some of her thoughts aloud caused her to weaken against Fin's grip and she finally allowed herself to be pulled away. He gently but firmly guided her toward the dance floor and away from both the bar and the enthralling ADA. "You are like thirty seconds from making a fuckin' fool of yourself, Liv. Why don'tcha dance with me instead?"

She couldn't find a way to unfurl her tongue in the proper motion to create audible, comprehensible sounds to respond to Fin's question, but he was willing to take her silence as acquiescence. They reached the middle of the sparsely populated dance floor, and he slid one hand around Olivia's waist and took her other hand with his free hand. She swayed against him, wine was not conducive to dancing and she had never really been good at in the first place. "You know that gettin' in a drunken brawl with her date will not endear you to her, right?" Fin murmured, his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry over the music.

"Nothing can endear me to her. I've practically thrown myself at her for months, and here she is with a man," Olivia slurred out. The part of her that was capable of good choices was deeply grateful for Fin's intervention. They weren't the closest detectives in the SVU, but he had always projected a strong sense of solidity to her. Like a big wall. The idea made her nearly giggle.

"Have you told her that's what you're doing, or are you expecting she's pickin' up ESP with her glasses?" Fin flinched as Olivia brought her heel down on his foot. Who would have thought such a capable and physically impressive detective would be such a klutz?

Olivia was saved from having to answer by a tap on Fin's shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" Elliot's asked. Fin released Olivia, easing her into Elliot's arms to avoid her falling on her ass. Kathy was standing behind and to the side of him, her eyebrows raised in concern. Fin offered her his hand and they began to dance, leaving Elliot to prop Olivia up.

"You are sloppy tonight, Liv," Elliot stated, a hint of disapproval tainting the obvious concern in his voice. He looked crisp in his dark navy suit and maroon tie which Kathy had undoubtedly picked out for him. She had given up entirely on dancing, the effort was too much for her in her current state. Instead she leaned against Elliot, grasping his coat in two balled fists.

"Not sloppy." She shook her head, but there was simply no way to clear the fog out of her brain or hide the obvious slur in her voice. "But it's _her_ fault!" Detective Stabler was a man with highly trained deductive skills, so he didn't require any further explanation to assume that somewhere in the vaulted ballroom there was a blond ADA, probably looking fabulous because she always did. Something more than Alex's presence had to have driven Olivia to drink so much. They had been partners a long time, and he was well aware of the fact that Detective Benson could drink heavily without arriving at this sloppy sorority girl level. Usually, when she got drunk she got angry – really, dangerously, aggressively angry, but tonight she was just sort of gooey and upset. He wasn't sure that he liked this side of her.

"Did Alex kick your puppy?" Elliot voice was sharper then he meant it to be. He decided to give up on getting Olivia to do anything other than sway and step on his feet, and supported her toward a table on the edge of the dance floor where he could watch Kathy dancing and laughing companionably with Fin. Olivia slumped thankfully into the chair that Elliot pulled out for her and folded her arms across her chest. She was wrinkling her new dress, a black sheath with tiny straps that showed off her arms and shoulders to their best effect, but she didn't care.

"No." Olivia dropped her chin to her chest and wished that she had something to drink. "She brought a…date."

Instantly, Elliot's eyebrow arched. The cogs in his brain turned and ground together, processing and analyzing the evening from a new direction like the good detective he was. "And you're mad that date isn't you?" His voice sounded startled even to himself. Sure, he had noticed over the years that there was great chemistry between his partner and the ADA, and he and the other boys in the Unit had mentioned in passing over drinks how hot the two of them together would be. Olivia had never, ever mentioned anything to Elliot that suggested she desired something romantic. They went to dinner sometimes and Olivia expressed admiration for Alex's brains and her passion, but he had always assumed that Olivia was straight.

"I'm mad her date is so insipid looking." Olivia countered angrily. "He's a pasty, boring looking little worm with an ugly tie."

Elliot rubbed his palms together. An emotional Olivia was always a minefield that had to be carefully treaded, but a drunk lesbian Olivia seemed like the sort of challenge that it was unfair for a man to have to take on while he was wearing his nicest suit. "If you promise to stay here and not move, I'm going to bring Fin back to keep you company. Kathy and I'll go have a look at Alex's worm. A little recon."

Olivia reached over and punched Elliot's arm, or she tried to except that she missed. "You learn how to do that sort of thing in the Marines, right?" She laughed softly. "A little recon on the ADA. Be sure to find out of if she likes her worms straight out of the ground, or if she washes the dirt off them first."

No matter how hard he tried, Elliot just couldn't figure out anything to say. The sound of the music and the rising tide of the hundreds of little conversations filled the room and Elliot decided it was easier to say nothing at all as he stood up. He leaned over and spoke directly into Fin's ear before offering his arm to Kathy and disappearing through the crowd toward the bar and the corner of the room where Olivia had seen Alex last. Fin straightened his coat, smiling after Elliot and Kathy before making his way toward Olivia's table. He contemplated calling Munch to see how long before he arrived to help Fin babysit, but finally decided against it.

***

Elliot was more than a little intimidated by the sight of Alexandra Cabot dressed to the nines standing beside a man wearing a tuxedo that surely cost more than Elliot made that year. Why did Olivia have to be gay for the most striking and intimidating woman that Elliot had ever worked with? Not to mention the richest. Kathy squeezed his arm reassuringly and then took the lead, pulling him over. "Alex Cabot, you look stunning!" As quickly as he could, Elliot had explained the situation to Kathy as they moved through the crowd. She had seemed substantially less surprised at the revelation then he had been; something he intended to ask her about later. "And your date, you have to introduce me!" she gushed. It was moments like this that Elliot's heart swelled with pride and love. Maybe Kathy should have been in the CIA.

Alex was quick on her feet, a skill that served her in good stead as an attorney in a high pressure situation like prosecuting sex crimes. Smoothly she turned from her conversation with her companion and offered Kathy a large smile. They had met once or twice at police functions like the one they found themselves at now, and Alex had found she liked Stabler's wife for her openness and warmth. She flashed the same smile at Elliot and set her hand on her companion's forearm. "This is Samuel Galbraith, he works in the District Attorney's office down in Boston." Elliot noticed that she didn't mention her personal relationship to the man who was obviously her date. "And you look absolutely amazing, Kathy. I love what you've done with your hair."

Kathy blushed slightly, patting at the elaborate up-do she had spent all afternoon perfecting. She grabbed Elliot's arm, leaning into him as she continued in a voice pitched at that peculiar tone that women used at parties to be friendly to acquaintances, "So, how long have you to been dating? I didn't think you would have time for a love life, Alex. Poor Elliot here spends more time with his gun then he does with me."

Alex laughed lightly at the joke and then took a sip of white wine from the glass she was holding. Everything about her screamed elegance and class. No wonder Olivia was falling down drunk over the girl. Elliot sighed to himself and tried to remember the last time he had seen legs that nice. "My job is time consuming, but I'm afraid it's not as rough as Elliot's," Alex offered modestly. Still, much to Elliot's growing annoyance, she didn't answer Kathy's question. The ADA had always played things close to the chest – she was probably a shark at poker, too.

Undaunted, Kathy pushed on, turning her attention to Samuel who had been amiably quiet up until this point. Olivia was practically a member of her family, after all, and she simply couldn't return to the distraught woman without slightly more information than that Alex's date had a rich sounding name. "You're an Assistant District Attorney too? It must not give you much time to come up from Boston to see Alex."

He shook his head. "I don't get up to New York often, but when I do, I make it a point to check in on Alex. Uncle Harrington would never let me here the end of it." His manner was smooth and friendly as he leaned toward Kathy. "We are in something of a competition, to see which one of us is the better prosecutor, but I'm afraid my win-loss record is nothing compared to my beautiful cousin's."

Now there was some information that Kathy and Elliot could take back to Olivia. Her date was her cousin, and therefore not a real date at all. Maybe that would soothe her some, though in her current state, Kathy doubted she would be any good to herself in catching the ADA's attention. Elliot must have had the same thought, because he tugged Kathy close again. "Well, its been a pleasure, we had best get back to Olivia and Fin or they'll think that we've snuck off."

***

Olivia's throbbing hangover headache had left her nearly crippled at her desk all morning. The rest of the squad had mostly steered clear of her, but Elliot continued to shoot her glances that alternated between disapproving and concerned throughout the morning. Munch and Fin had volunteered to take the day's only call earlier, and left before either could say anything clever about the situation. She was leaning her forehead against a stack of paperwork on her desk, appreciating how cool it felt, and clutching a Styrofoam cup of stale coffee also resting on her desk in one hand when Alex glided into the precinct the morning after the disastrous Policeman's Ball. Her heels clicked smartly against the tile, alerting Olivia to her presence without forcing her to lift her throbbing head. She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes, affording herself a view of the right side of her desk which was quickly obscured by the appearance of an Armani-clad hip as Alex leaned against it. It was black, back-slit skirt suit day, Olivia observed but her headache disallowed her from enjoying it in the same visceral way she usually did.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: As somebody observed, yes, it was a weird place to leave it in the last chapter. And that's cause I had a fight with my computer. The last bit should have been the first bit here and is reproduced at the beginning of this chapter to improve flow.

Olivia's throbbing hangover headache had left her nearly crippled at her desk all morning. The rest of the squad had mostly steered clear of her, but Elliot continued to shoot her glances that alternated between disapproving and concerned throughout the morning. Munch and Fin had volunteered to take the day's only call earlier, and left before either could say anything clever about the situation. She was leaning her forehead against a stack of paperwork on her desk, appreciating how cool it felt, and clutching a Styrofoam cup of stale coffee also resting on her desk in one hand when Alex glided into the precinct the morning after the disastrous Policeman's Ball. Her heels clicked smartly against the tile, alerting Olivia to her presence without forcing her to lift her throbbing head. She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes, affording herself a view of the right side of her desk which was quickly obscured by the appearance of an Armani-clad hip as Alex leaned against it. It was black, back-slit skirt suit day, Olivia observed but her headache disallowed her from enjoying it in the same visceral way she usually did.

"Are you alright, Olivia?" Alex's melodious voice miraculously did not send shooting pain through Olivia's head like most of the noises that morning had. The alcohol could not have been the only thing that made Alex resemble an angel, Olivia suddenly realized. She had a healing voice too. If she wasn't still in serious pain, the thought would have made Olivia laugh. "I missed you at the Ball last night." Alex's statement seemed almost sad, but Olivia wrote it off as wishful thinking on her part. Alex's date might have been her cousin, but there was simply no evidence she was gay. Her sour musing was broken abruptly by the realization that a graceless silence was developing. It was her turn to talk.

"I was there." Her tongue felt big and thick and covered in fur. She gestured vaguely toward Fin's empty desk. "Luckily, you missed Detective Tutuola and I cutting a rug." Alex's perfectly sculpted eyebrow shot up in surprise. Oh great, Olivia felt like smacking herself, hangovers didn't make her suave and the last thing she wanted was Alex stuck with a mental image of her and Fin getting down on the dance floor. She turned her forehead back to the desk. Alex was too pretty to look at with a headache like Olivia's.

"Well…" Alex shifted away from the desk, running a hand down her thigh to straighten her skirt. The entire conversation, such as it was, had been the most awkward interaction she had ever had with the striking detective. "I better go talk to Cragen."

Olivia lifted her head just enough to watch Alex's swaying hips as she walked away. The slit in the back of her tight skirt moved with each step, revealing and concealing the backs of mouthwatering alabaster thighs. Olivia couldn't help but stare, jaw slack.

A crumpled DD-5 pegged Olivia in the back of her head, breaking her reverie suddenly. She snapped around, just fast enough to make herself nauseous, and glared at Elliot who broke out laughing. "Liv, you are a total loser," he said with a snort.

She waited until she heard Cragen's office door close firmly before she replied. "It's not my fault. Cabot has bewitched me, I'm helplessly under her spell. But, she's probably totally and unequivocally straight, so really, she is just tormenting me for laughs!" Olivia sighed dramatically. Elliot just turned back to his paperwork. Much to her annoyance, his expression was unreadable.

***

"I think it's not beyond the realm of possibility that Cabot is rich enough that she could paid a chemist to invent a love potion and accidentally spiked Benson's coffee when she was try to dose Captain Cragen," Munch offered, doing his best to be the opposite of helpful. He had suggested a number of outrageous scenarios, but this was his best and he looked decidedly proud of it.

Fin reached over to take Munch's empty beer glass from his grasp, sighing exaggeratedly. Elliot slapped his forehead. They were seated at a small table sporting a couple of empty beer pitches in the corner of a dingy cop bar around the corner from the one-six. Elliot had made sure that Olivia took a cab home, partly because she still looked like shit but mostly so she couldn't decide to get a drink and walk in on their plotting which she would not have appreciated.

"I don't think it matters how or why Liv has it so bad. What matters is how we're going to figure out if Cabot is gay," Elliot tapped his forefinger on the dirty tabletop to emphasize his point.

"We could just ask her?" Fin offered.

"And get slapped with a sexual harassment lawsuit faster than you can say 'special victims'. That woman is so cold she's an icicle." Munch knew a thing or two about sexual harassment after his long line of wives.

"We're detectives. What we need to do is gather some evidence, do some detecting." The gears in Elliot's mind began to turn, lubricated by beer. Alexandra Cabot would be an open book to him soon.

***

A crisp knock at her office door interrupted Alex in the middle of prepping a closing argument. She tossed the legal pad covered in half-finished sentences and useless points onto her desk, followed by her pen. She had been oddly distracted since her trip to the precinct the morning before. Not to flatter herself, but she was pretty sure that Olivia had checked her out. It stuck in the back of her brain – the idea of Olivia's eyes on her – wanting her. It snuck up on her in the shower, while she was making dinner, on the cab to work in the morning. A flood of warmth inundated her lower belly every time the idea pushed its way to the front. A distraction of the non-sexual type was almost welcome to Alex by that point.

"Come in."

The door opened part of the way, and Elliot slipped his wide shoulders inside, closing it softly behind him. The Detective's arrival was a surprise. She hadn't made any appointments for the day since she had court in the afternoon she desperately needed to prepare for. "Is there something I can do to help you, Detective Stabler?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs at the knees.

He sat down in the visitor's chair across the desk from her and leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. His gaze was intent, like he was studying a perp, which was unnerving since he had locked it on Alex. He rubbed his hands together contemplatively. "Do you own any comfortable shoes?" he finally asked.

Like his presence, the question caught her off guard. She arched her eyebrow and paused for a moment considering how to respond. Somehow this must be a trap, or a joke. "My heels aren't really that uncomfortable. Once you get used to them," she offered, because really the answer was no. She owned a closetful of three hundred dollar heels, a single pair of running shoes. Alexandra Cabot didn't schlep around, even on the weekend.

With a frown Elliot put a tick mark in the straight column. He had spent an hour on the phone the night before talking to Munch while he surfed the internet for information that might help him identify a potential lesbian. After he had explained what he was doing to Kathy, she had laughed and left him to it with a knowing look he figured he should ask her about later.

"That's too bad." He said, as if the words actually meant anything. "What about softball? Do you like to play softball?" Olivia really owed him one for this.

Something was definitely up and Alex's first instinct was to shut Elliot down with a razor-sharp quip and go back to doing her work. But the conversation had to be going somewhere and she was just curious enough to find out where. "I played a little in college, on the law school co-ed team," she offered.

All the websites said that was a definite gay give-away. Elliot checked off the gay column. "Ever listen to the Indigo Girls?"

The picture finally became clear for Alex, but the reason for it just didn't make sense. Knowing now the direction that Elliot was going, Alex absolutely refused to admit that she owned several of their CDs. "I'm not sure where you're going with this or why," Alex asked icily.

He was backed into a corner, and he knew it. But he still had no conclusive proof beyond a reasonable doubt. Time to throw out his last gambit before she kicked him out of her office. "Well, I don't really care. But Olivia wanted to know."

At the sound of the female detective's name, a bright blush blossomed on Alex's ivory cheeks. Now that was the nail in the coffin, Elliot concluded. The lawyer was left speechless, for the first time since she'd passed the bar. What the hell could she say to that? And the idea that had plagued her for the last twenty-four hours, Olivia's eyes on her, elbowed its way to the front of her brain. She was pretty much going to die, at her desk, in front of Elliot Stabler, without being able to utter a single other word.

Elliot saved her by tapping his hand on her desk, as if to signal the end of her interview, and then headed out the door without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

"She is gay. Or, at least," Elliot amended thoughtfully, "gay for Olivia." Munch nearly dropped the pot of coffee he was holding. Fin rescued him by catching it by the handle, and then acting as if nothing happened, began to pour himself a glass. "And I think she might like the Indigo Girls," Elliot added, sealing his airtight case.

"That is pretty gay," Fin said thoughtfully. He set the coffee pot back in the coffee maker and then took a sip before pulling a face. "Shit, this coffee is older than Munch's last wife." He complained, but he drank the whole cup anyway.

"Nah, my last wife was older then this coffee by probably a week or two," Munch stared at his coffee, swirling it thoughtfully. "But, just cause Alex is gay for Olivia, doesn't meant that Olivia is gay for Alex when she's sober. Everyone's a little queer when they drink."

Fin and Elliot stared at Munch like he'd grown a second head. Olivia never fought with anyone like she fought with Alex. She walked too close to her, made excuses to go to her office and she obviously checked the ADA out every time she sat on her desk. There was no question how gay Olivia was for Alex. "Alright, alright. That was dumb," John conceded.

"She's not going to appreciate us nosing into her private business, you know how she is," Fin pointed out. They could all remember the last time they tried to get a look at one of Olivia's dates who had picked her up at the precinct. There was a scar on Munch's shin from her heel. Detective Benson was scrappy.

"How are we going to let her know that she needs to take Alex somewhere private and pull her clothes off with her teeth?" Elliot asked, relishing the mental picture that his words conjured.

"Who's clothes? What the hell are you guys talking about?" The men had been so intent on the mental image of Olivia undressing Alex with her mouth that they hadn't noticed the real Olivia approach. She reached past them to grab the coffee pot. Without warning, the SVU detectives scattered, leaving her suddenly alone as she poured herself a mug.

A confused look remained plastered on her face as she took her mug and settled into her desk chair. Elliot studiously stared at his paperwork, never once looking up. Fin and Munch where suddenly quite busy too. She picked up a stack of papers and shuffled it, then set it down. Next she picked up all the lose pens on her desk and put them in her drawer. That was as far as she could hold it in before she clapped her palms together to get Elliot's attention. Startled, he looked up and then realizing he had been caught tried to look back down. It was too late. "Who's clothes? What the hell is going on in here?" She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you guys acting so weird? Were you talking about me?"

Her suspicions were immediately confirmed when Fin choked on a swallow of coffee and fled with unseemly haste to the bathroom. Munch pointed at Elliot, trying to deflect any guilt. "He's the one that said it, not me."

The intense glare that Olivia fixed on Elliot nearly seared the skin off his face. She narrowed her eyes, she leaned across the desk and then she finally asked, in her for-the-last-time voice, "What the hell is going on in here?"

There was simply no way for the man to escape. He was caught, hung out to dry by his comrades. For the first time since they had become partners, Olivia saw Elliot blush. He stammered for a moment, trying to find a way to phrase his earlier comment that wouldn't be too offensive. "Well…just, you know, you wanted me to do recon. So, I just, went to talk to Cabot about softball and stuff…well, one thing led to another. And I was just telling the boys I think she's really into you."

Olivia's eyes bugged out of her head. A vein stood out in her neck, throbbing visibly. Her teeth ground together, causing the muscle in her jaw to tick. The Detective was about to have a brain aneurysm. "Somebody call a bus, stat!" Munch yelled. "She's going to explode!"

"Softball? You were talking to Cabot about softball?!" Olivia gripped the edge of her desk so hard her knuckles turned white. Just the idea of talking to the sophisticated attorney about something that involved as much dirt as softball did, boggled the mind. Her eyebrow arched as understanding began to dawn. "You went to ask Cabot if she was gay, didn't you?"

Elliot's guilty expression told her everything that she needed to know. They had been partners long enough that Stabler was like an open book with the words written in extra large font in bright colors. "And how do you know that she's into me? How do you know that she's gay? Does she play second base?"

"No, but I think she might let you slide into home. She nearly died when I mentioned your name," Elliot offered, trying his best to smile despite the trying circumstances. But the effect was not what he hoped for – Olivia's face turned bright red and she bent over to press against the desk and fold her arms over the top of her head.

"And what were you saying about clothes earlier?" Olivia asked, but she knew now she didn't want to hear the answer.

Buried as deep in shit as he was, Elliot decided to just fess up. "Um, I was just wondering how to tell you that Alex needs you to take her somewhere private and tear off her clothes with your…teeth." There, he had said it out loud, to Olivia, in the middle of the squad room. She was probably going to kill him now. Desperately, he tried to remember the last time he had been to confession. Too long. He was going to hell.

There were no words. No words at all. Olivia just lay there, thinking about how long it would take for her to die if she just held her breath. The feeling was only compounded by the sound of clicking heels and the swish of the squad room door. Alexandra Cabot had arrived at the worst possible time for Olivia's wounded dignity. All of the other detectives in the room held their breath.

"Is everything alright? It seems like you are always prone on your desk when I arrive," Alex stopped at Olivia's desk, like she always did. But today was different, for both of them. Olivia couldn't escape the mental image of slowly dragging a pair of damp silk panties down Alex's long legs with her teeth. Alex had been rattled by Elliot's questioning which had left her vulnerable to a permutation of her original thought; it had grown from Olivia simply watching her to Olivia actually touching her all over.

"We were talking softball technique and I think it tired her out," Elliot offered which sent Munch and Fin into gales of laughter over an inside joke. Not understanding the conversation annoyed Alex to no end. Sometimes, there was simply no way to fathom what was going on with cops, she was going to have to work on accepting that.

Doing her best to pull the tatters of her self-respect around her, Olivia sat up, which unintentionally placed her in a perfect position to look up into Alex's beautiful eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that the alcohol had not produced the halo effect at the Ball, now. The ADA was shockingly beautiful and it seemed to radiate out from her. Unconsciously Olivia licked her lips.

The gesture was not lost on anyone in the room. Alex was watching Olivia as intently as she was watching her, and all of the male detectives were shifting uncomfortably in their chairs, unable to tear their eyes away. "I don't think prone is the right word," Olivia managed to say, her voice an octave lower than usual which made it sound husky.

"I'm a lawyer. It's the right word." Alex grasped her briefcase tighter to avoid reaching out to run her hand through Olivia's hair. "We need to go over some of your paperwork for the Wiggin's case, but if you're feeling too tired, I could come back sometime when there hasn't been as many sports involved in your day."

Pull it together, Benson. Olivia pushed herself up, leaning her weight heavily on the desk as if she were tired but still pushing through it. "I think I can manage. Why don't we head into 2 so that we can have some privacy."

Alex nodded, and headed toward the indicated room. Olivia hung back for a moment to shoot an extra special glare at Elliot. "You will pay for this," she said in a stage whisper full of menace before following the ADA.


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia shifted nervously in the hard wooden chair across from Alex Cabot who was setting her briefcase on the table, flicking open the latches with her long, elegant fingers and then opening it to retrieve several files which she meticulously laid out around her. Olivia stared, hyper-aware of the other woman's every move, every breath. She could see the pulse in Alex's slender, ivory throat. It made her mouth dry. She reached up and ran her hand through her short hair, letting out a long breath to try to calm herself. The gesture didn't help and only drew Alex's attention to her. The attorney's clear blue eyes fixed on her, running from the hand dropping from her hair down to her throat. The trail of her eyes caressed Olivia, forcing her to bit her lip to keep from groaning. She was in so much trouble.

Alex's gaze dropped back to her files. She opened one and selected a few papers which she slid across the table to Olivia. All business. "These are the ones I need to talk to you about, in the Jackson case." Olivia reached over and took the papers, flicking through them absently. She did her best to try to keep her mind focused on the typed words in front of her, but all she could think about were Elliot's words.

"I thought you were pleading him out?" She swelled with pride at the fact her voice didn't crack. She sounded relatively normal.

"My bosses aren't going for it." Alex sighed, reaching up to take her glasses off and then rub the bridge of her nose. "Politics." She settled the glasses back and looked over at Olivia. The Detective's jaw had gone slack and she looked dazed. The attorney had expected that she would be angry by the news of interference, she usually exploded when the powers that be meddled.

They went over Olivia's testimony, her paperwork, all the minutiae of a case that had been wrapped weeks ago. If the detective weren't already so keyed up, she might have wondered if Alex was simply dragging their encounter out for less than professional reasons. However, she was too busy trying not to fantasize about bending the blond ADA over the table to really consider anything else. Her suspicions would have been confirmed, if she had any, when Alex closed her briefcase and took her glasses off. She nervously fiddled with the plain frames as she worked up the nerve to ask the question that had actually brought her down to the precinct today.

"Did you send Stabler to my office to interrogate me about my shoes?"

Without warning, Olivia's daydream morphed from having vigorous sex with ADA Cabot on the table to murdering Elliot with her service weapon. The muscle in her jaw began to clench and unclench visibly under her skin, distracting Alex for a moment. She had said something very wrong, and now the detective was going to explode. They would have one of their heated fights and Alex would be forced to take a detour to the bathroom to touch herself before she would be able to sit in her office and do any meaningful work.

The explosion didn't happen. Olivia talked herself off the edge. Maybe this was an opportunity, she tried to convince herself, an opportunity to be flirtatious with Alex and a little charming. It could be an opening to ask her out to dinner. Right. It was going to work out. "No, he went rogue with the footwear. That definitely wasn't me." She leaned back to look under the table. Alex was wearing a pair of black stilettos that cost more than Olivia's rent and which accentuated the lithe curve of her calf. "Nice shoes, though."

Alex shifted under Olivia's scrutiny and recrossed her legs. In her mind she had only gotten as far as that first question. She wasn't sure what sort of response she had expected – not that she had a particular response in mind. "I suppose Stabler informed you that I'm a lesbian, then. But I would appreciate if you didn't spread that around. The DA's office is not the best place to be out if you want a career." Alex opted for cool and professional. She knew her nickname around the precinct was the "Ice Queen", and it usually bothered her, but today the veneer of cold detachment might save her from further embarrassment.

And just like that, Olivia had a heart attack. At least that's what the strange, almost painful tightening in her chest followed by the light headedness and the pounding behind her ears felt like. "Well, no. He didn't but, now that you have, I'll be sure to keep it to myself." She winked at Alex and stood up, swaggering toward the exit. "I wouldn't want the extra competition," she called over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her. She barely made it to the bathroom before her legs gave out.

Alex sat in her chair, hands gripping the corners of the table, stunned and unmoving for several moments after Olivia's exit. Did Olivia Benson just flirt with her?

***

Munch was sitting on Fin's desk and Elliot was standing nearby, holding a coffee cup in one hand. All three of them looked up in unison when Alex walked back into the squad room, without Olivia. She didn't say anything as she breezed pass on her way to Cragen's office. When she was safely out of ear shot, Munch murmured, "Do you think she killed, Liv?"

Before anyone could speculate as to how Olivia met her end, the woman in question stumbled out of the bathroom looking a little pale. She sat heavily at her desk and ran both hands through her hair. The brown strands stuck out in every direction. She hadn't been sitting long when Alex returned from Cragen's office – all business. She paused from just a minute at Olivia's desk, leaning down to whisper, "Pick me up at my office at 7." And without waiting for a reply she was gone, the door swinging closed behind her.

***

The rest of the work day dragged by for Olivia. It was pretty obvious what Alex had meant by her whispered order, but without any other context Olivia was unsure of how to react, what to expect or even what to wear. She drummed on the desk incessantly with a pen for the rest of the day, until she finally drove Elliot to violent distraction. He chucked the balled up wrapper from his greasy lunch sandwich at her head, but missed, managing to catch Captain Cragen in the face as he walked into the squad room.

"You clowns practicing for the circus or are we going to start acting like we have real jobs in here?" He asked, bending down to pick up the garbage from where it had fallen after bouncing off his chest and tossed it in the garbage. He checked his watch. "What are you people still doing here? I'm not authorizing any overtime because you all want to play sports on the company clock."

Olivia took Cragen's outburst as an excuse to finish up the paperwork in front of her, file it away and slink out of the precinct at a quarter to five, leaving early for the first time in years. Elliot arched his eyebrow at her retreating back and grinned over at the other two detectives who responded with the thumbs up. Mission accomplished.

She took a cab home, took a shower and dressed. Then undressed and redressed. Then undressed again, stared at her closet and finally redressed. The process took up all of the spare time she had gained by heading out of the precinct early, but she thought, as she looked at herself in the mirror, that it was worth it. She had selected a pair of dark, fitted jeans that hugged her hips just enough to draw attention without looking like she was trying too hard. For her top she selected a dark navy sweater and she looked stacked in it, she mentally complimented herself. She topped it off with her leather jacket, mussed her hair up just enough to make it look like she wasn't trying and then headed for the parking garage.

Her gleaming black, ragtop '65 Mustang was parked right where she left her, sparkling under the harsh halogen lighting of the parking garage. Alexandra Cabot didn't stand a chance. She climbed in and turned the key in the ignition, appreciate the purr of the engine and the vibration of the quiescent horsepower. She put the top down, checked herself in the rearview mirror and then pulled out, heading for Alex's office.

She arrived just as Alex stepped out the front door, briefcase in hand, frighteningly punctual. Seven o'clock on the dot. As the Mustang rolled up to the curb, Alex appraised it with her baby blue eyes from headlight to rear bumper. Her gaze was a caress that Olivia was jealous wasn't aimed at her, but Alex looked impressed and maybe a little turned on by her ride, so she got over it quickly.

Alex slid into the leather seat beside Olivia and tossed her briefcase in the back. "I was worried you wouldn't come," she said, taking off her glasses and folding them precisely before slipping them into the inner pocket of her suit jacket. Olivia shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do now but acutely aware of the other woman in her car. "I made reservations for us at a little Mexican place." She gave Olivia the address and leaned back in the seat.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex's hair was ruffled and her cheeks flushed by the time they made it to the restaurant. Olivia imagined that Alex looked something like that right after sex. She desperately wanted to find out if that was true. She opened Alex's car door for her, smiling as the attorney brushed against her when she straightened up. Her perfume lingered in the air. Olivia couldn't identify the brand; she had never smelled it on anyone else before but it was a sensual smell that suited Alex well.

She held the restaurant door for Alex, too. When she stepped inside behind her and set her hand on the small of her back almost possessively on their way to the hostess' stand, Alex leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Aren't you quite the gentleman?" Her breath on Olivia's ear made her shiver and she just couldn't find any words to say.

They were seated at an intimate table in the corner. Olivia couldn't help but notice that Alex seemed to have arranged their privacy with a quiet word to the hostess and the passing of several bills. Alex had an uncanny way of managing her surroundings, commanding them with her poise and eloquence. They were seated and both began to study the menu intently. The fare appeared to be standard American-Mexican and the menu itself was mostly a collection of pictures of appetizing looking dishes. The sophisticated ADA stood out in the middle of the less than elegant Mexican restaurant. The walls were stucco and decorated with vaguely Hispanic-themed knick-knacks. Someone had painted a mural of an idyllic Mexican village across the far wall. It was as if every Mexican restaurant in America had been smashed together and then averaged out, resulting in this place. Why Alex had picked it, remained something of a growing mystery to the Detective. Olivia glanced over her menu to watch Alex, who was perusing the options with her usual intensity.

"You know, there's no death penalty for dinner here. You don't have to look so serious," Olivia teased.

"I was just trying to remember my high school Spanish," Alex explained, but she grinned over her menu before folding it and setting it in front of her. Her eyes sparkled in the low light. Her decision finally made, she folded the menu and set it in front of her.

She didn't say a word until the waiter came and took their order: a margarita and enchiladas for Olivia, and strawberry margarita and a taco salad for her. Once the waiter was out of earshot, Alex leaned forward, setting her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. Her ran her foot up the inside of Olivia's leg lazily. "Is this less serious?"

"Different kind of serious," Olivia said as a blush slowly worked its way from under her collar up to her cheeks. She desperately wished that her margarita would come so she could have something to with her hands other then play with her napkin. "Especially since I remain unclear as to what exactly this evening is."

Alex arched her eyebrow and smiled. It was a rather smug expression that made her patrician features even more commanding. "You showed up in that jacket, Detective, driving your Mustang. I think you know exactly what this evening is." Her voice was husky, almost a purr.

Olivia reached back to tug at the sleeve of the leather jacket she'd draped over her chair. "This old thing? It was just something I had in my closet. And I only own the one car. We aren't all star attorney's with old-money last names." She winked at Alex. Somehow, the longer she sat there, the more she looked at the attorney, the higher her foot went on Olivia's thigh, the more comfortable she became. Alex was flirting with her. She had asked her on a date. She was obviously interested and she was an interesting person. There was not a single better way to spend an evening.

They were interrupted by the return of the waiter, carrying their drinks. He set one gaudy margarita glass in front of each lady and then left, but not before checking Alex out. Olivia had reached for her drink and was in the process of taking a sip when she noticed the waiter's look and nearly choked. Alex remained completely oblivious. As Olivia began to sputter, Alex's seductive look changed to one of concern. "Are you okay?" She offered her napkin, though there was nothing it could do to allow Olivia to breath around tequila and ice.

"I just realized the waiter and I have something in common," Olivia managed to growl before coughing again.

"What?" Alex glanced in the direction that the waiter had retreated in. There were no answers, just a vaguely Mexican themed dining room. She looked back over at Olivia, eyebrow arched expectantly.

"We both have a thing for blondes."

The waiter returned soon after with their meal. They ate and talked companionably, growing increasingly comfortable with each other. Alex's foot remained against Olivia's leg and at some point that neither of them could remember, they ended up holding hands on the side of the table while they ate. Olivia ran her thumb over the back of Alex's hand while she ate, distracting the blonde more then she knew.

They both had another margarita, and by the time Olivia had finished her enchiladas she could feel a mild buzz and a pleasant alcohol-induced warmth spread through her limbs. More and more, Alex seemed to be pulling her in, like a magnet. She found herself leaning closer, breathing deeper, noticing every little detail. Alex had a stunning collar bone and she wanted to nibble on it. She couldn't take it anymore, she decided, either she had to take Alex home or she needed to head home and take a long cold shower.

She signaled the waiter who was more than eager to return to their table. He couldn't hide his disappointment when Olivia asked for the check. Alex looked a little surprised at Olivia's suddenly authoritative manner. The detective certainly hadn't consulted her about ending their stay at the restaurant. Olivia paid without even giving Alex the chance to offer to take care of it for her.

The detective stood up, tossing her leather jacket over her arm and offering Alex her hand to help her up. Elegantly Alex set her hand on Olivia's arm and rose. She was secretly glad for Olivia's assistance, it had been a while since she had drank that much at once and she wasn't sure how steady she would be in her Jimmy Chos. From the table to Olivia's car, they didn't speak a word. The sexual tension between them was growing. There just weren't words to adequately articulate it.

Olivia revved the motor, eliciting a light laugh from Alex, and pulled out. She didn't ask for permission before heading toward her apartment. When Alex didn't make any comment, Olivia figured she had made the right decision. When Alex put her hand on Olivia's thigh, she was certain she had made the right decision. By the time she pulled into her parking garage, Alex had undone the top button of her pants and slipped her fingers down under the waistband, fixing her mouth against the side of Olivia's neck in a fashion designed to leave marks and drive the detective wild.

They stumbled out of the car, a tangle of limbs, unwilling to allow unnecessary space between their bodies. Olivia's doorman watched them with a smirk as they staggered through the lobby and into the elevator. She didn't care enough to be embarrassed. All of her senses were full of Alex. They reached her apartment, made it through the door and promptly collapsed onto the floor, Alex on top and Olivia's pants rapidly being pushed off her hips.

Alex paused long enough to shift her weight so Olivia could be more comfortable on the floor and gave the detective a long, deep kiss. She pulled away long enough to murmur, "You taste like margarita."

Olivia reached up, ripping Alex's shirt open, scattering buttons across the floor. The view nearly took Olivia's breath away. She reached up to cup a lace-covered breast and smiled up at Alex. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders, framing her flushed face and kiss-bruised lips. "You look like an angel."


End file.
